When I substitute teach on Catalina Island, as I did this past Tuesday, I take the Catalina Express. The people who ride the Catalina Express are a mix of tourists, residents, and folks who, like me, are going to work: teachers, construction workers, utility workers, etc.
And it’s fairly quiet on board, especially on that 6am departure out of Long Beach.
It was a little different for a few weeks this spring when I worked at the science camp. We weren’t on the Catalina Express; the boat we were on was smaller, and the only passengers on board were the students and their chaperones: a boat full of seventh and eighth graders—more than a hundred of them—many of whom were excited, and perhaps a little nervous, about traveling across the sea on a boat, many of them for the first time.
And all that excitement and nervousness, and their normal middle-school energy, all helped to create a whole different vibe onboard.
In addition to being smaller, the boat we were on was also older, and slower. The trip to Catalina took two hours.
But the boat operators were clever. They had a large TV screen mounted inside, and they played a movie. This attracted the attention of at least some of the students, who settled down to watch, instead of running amuck on board the boat.
The first trip I took, they showed Big Hero 6, one of my absolute favorite movies. The seat I was in was too far forward to see the screen, but I decided to stay where I was, because even though I love Big Hero 6, I’ve seen it a thousand times.
But I could still hear the movie from where I was seated. As I stared out at the ocean and listened to the movie, I realized something about Big Hero 6 that I had never realized before.
At this point, I need to tell you a little about the movie, including some spoilers. The movie’s been out so long now that probably, if it was important for you to see it, you would have already. But if, perhaps, you were actually planning to watch the movie for the first time later today: well, you’ve been warned.
In the movie, 14 year-old Hiro Hamada’s older brother, Tadashi, dies in a terrible explosion. This, understandably, fills Hiro with grief.
Later, Hiro discovers that the explosion was no accident. It was a deliberate act, and even though the explosion wasn’t meant to hurt Tadashi, Hiro’s grief turns into anger, and a desire for revenge grows within him. That desire for revenge overtakes Hiro, and Hiro actually tries to kill the person who set off the explosion.
That person is Professor Robert Callaghan. It turns out that Professor Callaghan is dealing with his own grief and anger over the apparent death of his daughter. The explosion he caused was the result of his own rage and desire for revenge. It was all part of his plan to get back at the person he believed was responsible for his daughter’s death.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. So much grief and anger!
So, just to make sure it’s all clear: Professor Callaghan’s daughter dies. Professor Callaghan is filled with grief and rage, and he hatches a plan for revenge, to get back at the person he believes is responsible for his daughter’s death. That plan includes setting off the explosion that kills Hiro’s brother, even though Hiro’s brother was completely innocent.
As a result, Hiro is filled with grief and rage, and he hatches a plan for revenge, to get back at the person he believes is responsible for his brother’s death…
On the long boat ride to Catalina, listening to the movie play in the background, I realized just how similar Hiro’s grief and Professor Callaghan’s grief are to each other, and how similar their reactions are.
Both Hiro and Professor Callaghan have grief that turns into anger, and rage, and which leads them to want to destroy the person they believe is responsible for causing their grief. In that sense, there really is no difference between Hiro Hamada and Professor Callaghan. The two are the same.
Except for one thing.
Hiro has friends who love him; and when Hiro’s grief turns into anger, and that anger leads him to seek revenge, his friends stop him from carrying out his plans, and help him realize that violence and revenge are not the way.
Professor Callaghan, however, has no friends who love him enough to stop him; and he becomes the villain.
Hiro becomes, well, the hero of this story; Professor Callaghan is the villain. Yet the only difference between the two of them is that Hiro has a group of friends who love him and who help him see that killing the person he believes responsible for Tadashi’s death is not the right path.
Which means that Hiro’s friends saved Hiro. It’s Hiro’s friends that kept him from being a villain, and made him a hero.
I had never thought of all this before until last week’s boat ride. Maybe you figured it out right away, but I had never made the connection, how similar Hiro and Professor Callaghan were, and how the only thing that saved Hiro was his friends.
And it made me think of today’s scripture, in which a man who is paralyzed is healed not because of his own faith, but because of the faith of his friends. He received forgiveness because of the faith of his friends. He was saved because of his friends.
I remember the day in seminary, when we were studying this passage, and my professor pointed this out: that it was the faith of his friends that healed him.
I had a hard time with that. It didn’t make sense to me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to accept it. It so offended my American belief that we are all responsible for our own station in life. It so offended my American Christian belief that Jesus is my personal Lord and Savior, with emphasis on personal. My faith is between me and Jesus. Every person is responsible for themself.
When I made my confession of faith, I did it as an individual. When I was baptized, it was my decision; mine and mine alone.
At least, that’s what I’d been taught.
So I didn’t know what to make of this story in which a man is healed and forgiven of his sins because of the faith of his friends.
In the same way that Hiro Hamada becomes a hero instead of a villain, because of his friends.
And I’m still wrestling with the implications of all this. It’s a whole new way of thinking about faith and salvation.
And it’s just one more way that the way of Christianity—the way of Jesus—is radically different from the way of the world. It’s one more way that the kingdom of God is a radical alternative to the kingdoms of this world.
And every day, I’m trying to repent of my acquiescence, my conformity, to the way of this world. I’m trying to repent of my individualistic, every-man-for-himself mindset. I’m trying to repent of my personal religion that isn’t really the religion of Jesus, but the religion of American individualistic culture.
I’ve learned that in many cultures, you don’t start a conversation without first inquiring about your conversation partner’s family.
And you don’t describe who you are without describing your family, and your community.
In many cultures, it is understood that your identity is what it is because of the connections and relationships you have, with your family, your friends, the town where you grew up, the church that taught you about Jesus.
To truly know who I am, you have to know who my friends are, and who my relatives are.
When I’m honest with myself, I know that this is true for me as well.
But that American, individualistic mindset is so ingrained in me, that I forget. And I really do make it all about me.
This is what I’m constantly trying to repent of in my life.
And this is why it was so startling to me, to realize that Hiro was saved by his friends; that Hiro was made into a hero because of his friends.
This is why it was so startling to me, to realize that the paralytic in today’s scripture was healed and received forgiveness and salvation because of the faith of his friends.
I’m trying to repent of this individualistic mindset, because I really do believe that, in the kingdom of God, it’s not all about me. In the kingdom of God, inflated egos have no place. In the kingdom of God, the individual is like a drop in the ocean, virtually indistinguishable from all the other drops.
In fact, even though I admit that there is so much about the afterlife that I don’t know, one thing I do think is true is that, after we die, we become so united with all the rest of God’s saints, that it’s virtually impossible to speak of an isolated individual. Our unity is so complete, and so characterized by love, that we are all ONE. One with each other, and one with God.
And part of me—the egotistical, individualistic part of me—is kind of put off by that.
But I really do believe that, in God’s kingdom, it’s not about me; it’s about we. It’s about all of us. The love between us and each other, and the love between us and God, is that strong, that it unites us so that we can’t even think or speak about the individual, without thinking or speaking about the family or the community.
I think the late Rachel Held Evans understood this. She mentioned more than once about those who believe for her on the days when she herself found it too hard to believe. She talks and writes about those who believe for her, on her behalf, on the days when she herself finds it too hard to believe.
And I think of the days when I myself find it hard to believe. Maybe it’s hard to believe, to have faith, because of someone who claims to be a Christian but who acts so un-Christlike; maybe it’s because of the injustice and unfairness of the world; maybe it’s because of my own grief that I carry around with me…
…whatever the reason, some days, it’s just hard to believe.
…Some days, I rely on the faith and the prayers of others, to believe on my behalf, so that I can be healed and made whole through their faith.
Some days, it’s only the faith of others that gets me through…that saves me.
The paralytic in the story wouldn’t have found healing, or forgiveness, or salvation, without his friends. They carried him to Jesus.
Which of your friends do the same for you?
And whose faith have you carried?
One of the reasons we gather as a church, as a community of faith, is to practice carrying one another. Private times of meditation are good and meaningful; my faith is greatly enriched by the time I spend alone, just me and God.
But private meditation isn’t enough. We also need a community that can carry us, and that we can join with to help carry others. We need to walk this journey of faith together, because together is how we find healing, wholeness, and salvation.
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